


Danse Macabre

by TheVagabondBoy



Series: Renaissance Man [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Achievement Hunters, Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - GTA, Crew as Family, Fake AH Crew, Gang Violence, Mentions of Violence, Piano, Ryan is a weird person, This is not one of those times, at least to the rest of the crew, but the others might be a little weirder sometimes, he is very weird in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 02:04:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9101488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVagabondBoy/pseuds/TheVagabondBoy
Summary: After a job gone sour, they crew is sitting in an old safe house, waiting for their resident medic to come to the rescue.Then Ryan shows one of his secret talents.





	

Okay, everyone in the Crew knew the Vagabond, _Ryan_ , was a fucking weirdo. People always said he was a psycho, an insane man with an unquenchable thirst for blood. But really, he wasn’t that crazy. It sounded strange if you knew the public image of him, but as soon as they were off the clock, he was…a pretty normal dude.

Sure, he still said some fucked up shit some times, and always seemed ready to fuck somebody’s day up. Other than that…yeah, pretty normal. Maybe the most normal of the whole bunch, because let’s be honest, the rest of them didn’t exactly have every screw tightened so to say.

Ryan had been hired into the Crew, into the family, for his skills. His talent for death, destruction, and chaos. It was his element. It was where he seemed most at home. But, he did have a life before them and a few skills and talents they didn’t know about.

But given how close the family was, it wasn’t strange that they were discovered one by one.

*

They were all but crawling into their safe house for the night. The job they had pulled had turned a little sour there at the end; it wasn’t too bad though. Ryan had to shoot some guys, Michael blew some stuff up, in the end they at least made it back to a safe house in relatively good conditions. Gavin had some scrapes and bruises, Jeremy got cut by one of the assholes they’d been dealing with, Geoff was about two minutes away from an aneurysm, and Jack got a nasty black eye and a cracked nose from where she had rammed the car into a pursuer and smashed her head into the wheel.

Caleb was on his way with a few people from the B Team acting nurses. It would take some time for them to get to the small house at the edge of the desert, but they had all dealt with their fair share of injuries so no one doubted that everyone would make it.

Ryan carried Jeremy from the car. The smaller man was bleeding and walking was a bad idea. The long cut ran along his left side. He had tried to walk, but moving his leg was a fucking nightmare of pain and blood so Ryan had told him to shut his mouth and deal with it as the Vagabond picked the short man up. Geoff lead them into the house. They entered into a living room of sorts, with a couch that stood against the wall to the left of the door. Ryan headed straight for the couch, lowering Jeremy onto the cushions quite gently. Michael followed with Gavin under his arm, holding a strip of his t-shirt to the small cut on the Brit’s forehead. The rest of the demolition man’s shirt was under Geoff’s hands stemming Jeremy’s bleeding.

“Talk to me, Lil’ J.” the Boss ordered, voice cracking as it always was in tense situations. “How you doin’, kid?”

The sniper smiled, his own blood smeared over his face after he had palmed at the wound. “’s good.” he assured. “I’ll be fine. ‘s not bad. Think it’s barkin’ worse than its bitin’. Relax.”

No one relaxed. He was still bleeding. Until Caleb could get there and do a thorough check-up, they didn’t want to get their hopes up. They had lost people before. It wasn’t something anyone wanted to go through again. Getting their hopes up would just make the crash _that_ much worse.

It was quiet. They had lost both the cops and the assholes they had tried to do business with. No one made much sound of celebration, though. If sirens started wailing, they wanted to know sooner rather than later.

Geoff sat with Jeremy on the couch. Gavin and Michael sat the small dining table that bordered the living room from the kitchen. Jack returned, likely from the bathroom, with band aids keeping her cracked nose straight and balls of toilet paper shoved up her nostril to stop the bleeding. She joined Michael and Gavin. They made sure to keep her from dozing off. It was likely she had a concussion from that steering wheel too. There was an old mahogany piano against the wall opposite the front door. Ryan sat on the stool. His mask lay discarded on top of the upright piano, along with his machine gun.

All heads whipped around at the sound of a solitary note.

Ryan sat with one finger on the key still pressed down, sound humming continuously. He was staring down at the key, as if studying both it and the sound. It seemed as if he was simply seeing if it worked or not. Given the slightly ramshackle state of the rest of the house, it wasn’t a weird question to ask oneself. But it seemed to work perfectly, when Ryan lifted his finger slowly then depressed the key once more.

He didn’t seem to notice how…well, _everyone_ was staring at him as he repeated the key-press some more times. Their eyes widened when he lifted his other hand, which had until then lain in his lap. He kept a steady rhythm with that same key, thrumming out the same note at even intervals. As he did, his right hand ghosted over the keys. As he sat, almost everyone had a clear sight line of his hands as they moved.

It seemed like muscle memory. His face was lax, neutral and calm, but his fingers moved like they had never done anything else. The music flowed from the tips of his fingers like magic. Like some supernatural thing had sprung into existence and cast a spell over them all. They were transfixed by the sound, and by the sight of Ryan so… _something_. He was slumped over the piano, forehead almost resting on the edge of the upright wall behind the keys. There was the slightest tug of a smile at the corners of his mouth when the piece he was playing came to life; his face paint seemed so out of place when that smallest of small smiles filled his lips. Heavy strikes on the lower notes, featherlight touches on the lighter notes, the mix producing magic.

It was over almost before it started.

A car honked outside the house. All heads whipped around once more. _Clack_ , as Ryan closed the lid over the ivory keys. He pulled his mask on, gun in hand, as he got to his feet.

“Probably Caleb.” he said, muffled just slightly by the mask. “I’ll check it out.”

The floorboards creaked under him and the door hinges whined.

Everyone stared at the door where it had closed behind him. For a moment, no one said a word. It was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.

“What the fuck?” Michael said, breaking the weighing silence. “Wh-… _what?_ ”

“I second that.” Jack said, voice distorted by her clogged up nostrils.

“Third.” Gavin agreed.

“Fourth and fifth here, I think.” Jeremy said.

He raised his hand, pushing Geoff lower jaw up to make the boss shut his mouth, which had hung open in surprise and confusion.

**Author's Note:**

> The piano piece I imagined Ryan playing is called Danse Macabre, by Camille Saint-Saëns.  
> A great piece. I highly suggest checking it out.


End file.
